


Fast Car

by rivers_bend



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Outdoor Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-11
Updated: 2011-07-11
Packaged: 2017-10-21 06:44:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/222086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivers_bend/pseuds/rivers_bend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Write about Adam driving fast and Tommy being scared, and Adam blowing him to make him feel better," Blue said. So I did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fast Car

**Author's Note:**

  * For [autoschediastic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/autoschediastic/gifts).



> The Obvious: I do not know any of the people whose public personas are mentioned in this story, and neither believe nor mean to imply this ever happened.

The hood's still hot under Adam's palms, must feel hotter still on Tommy's ass, but Adam's pretty sure that's not why he can't keep still. Cool satin sheets, rough living room carpet, engine-hot metal, when Adam's got his tongue flicking up under Tommy's balls like that, Tommy's in a constant state of motion. Adam pets him, palms squeezing his waist, thumbs stroking his hips, down, pushing his thighs farther apart, tilting his ass up so Adam can lick wetly at his hole. Tommy's left leg twitches, making his belt, still in the loops of the jeans hanging off one knee, clank against the headlight, the denim casting wild shadows around the culvert and strobing over Tommy's skin.

In Palm Springs for the weekend, they were going to go to dinner, but neither of them were hungry, so Adam just kept driving, east out of the city, into the desert, until there was no one on the road and he could put his foot to the floor and just _go_. Tommy went from head tilted back and eyes closed to watching Adam warily to white knuckled on the oh-shit handle as Adam pushed the car to the edge of what she could do, last pink of the setting sun in the rear view.

"You get us killed I'm gonna kill you," Tommy muttered, but he didn't tell Adam to slow down, like maybe he liked the look on Adam's face, could see Adam needed the shiver of the steering wheel under his hands, the thrum of adrenalin in his veins.

But when Tommy started taking deep calming breaths, Adam slowed, pulled off into the dirt behind some rocks, said, "C'mon. Out. Let's get you some air."

Stargazing led to kissing, Tommy all pliant and needy under Adam's hands and lips, soft sounds loud in the night's silence, and no way Adam could just let that go unanswered, so he lifted him up onto the hood, pulled open his jeans.

Adam considers for a moment untangling Tommy's pants from his leg, but they're not really in the way, and Adam would rather watch Tommy suck his fingers wet. Pouting around Adam's knuckles, Tommy's lips are too tempting to leave alone, and Adam has to lean down and kiss him, push his tongue in alongside his fingers, suddenly wishing he were flexible enough to kiss Tommy while Tommy was sucking his dick. Speaking of which, whole point of this was to give Tommy a blow job.

The disappointed whimper when Adam takes his fingers away turns into a needy whine when Adam pushes at his hole, one, then the other, then both, letting Tommy bite and suck at his lips while he works in to the last knuckle, shallow fucks loosening him until it's a smooth slide and Tommy's riding his fingers. With a last peck on Tommy's lips, Adam pushes Tommy flat on the car again, moves down to open his mouth around Tommy's dick, let Tommy fuck his face.

Torn between wanting this to be over with quickly--Adam is the wrong height entirely to be giving head to someone laid out on the hood of a sports car--and wanting to make it last to hear more of Tommy's noises echoing off the rocks, Adam keeps rubbing Tommy's prostate hard and fast, and then pulling out to hold him open with just his fingertips while he teases Tommy's cockhead with his tongue, until Tommy takes the decision away from him, grabbing his hair with both hands and holding him down so he can grind on Adam's fingers and not lose his mouth.

"Jesus, fucking _tease_ ," Tommy grunts a minute later, a lazing starfish hood ornament looking pleased with himself despite his complaint.

"If I were a tease you'd have your belt wrapped around your wrists right now, and both your shoes on.

"Where is my other shoe?" Tommy asks, lifting his sock-clad foot to rest it on Adam's hip. It makes Adam lean in a little, flex Tommy's knee back, makes him think about digging through the glove compartment for some lotion or something wetter than spit, fucking him right here. But it's never as much fun for Tommy to get fucked when he's already come, and Adam kind of likes the idea of jerking off like this, between Tommy's thighs, Tommy watching from the shadows.

"Do it," Tommy says. "Get your dick out. Lemme see it."

"What d'you want me to do with it then?" Adam asks, just in case Tommy is in the mood for fucking.

"You look like some kind of Hollywood idol, like fucking searchlights shining on you. Think you should jerk it for me, all rock god, larger than life."

Adam fucking loves the way Tommy's brain works, the way he sees shit sometimes. And who is he to say no to the role of masturbating rock god?

It doesn't take him long, just as well, because it's starting to go from chilly to fucking freezing, and Tommy's sitting bare-ass naked on quickly cooling metal. "Fuck yeah," Tommy murmurs as Adam grabs his ankle, needing something to hold on to as he comes into the dirt, jizz shiny in the glare of the headlights.

"We should totally get you a spotlight for the bedroom," Tommy says while Adam's helping him untangle the twist of denim from around his calf. "Install it under the foot of the bed."

"You are so fucking weird," Adam says, laughing. Tommy pouts dramatically. "How 'bout we just move the reading lamp if you've got that much of a horn on for my flood-lit dick?" But Adam wonders if Tommy knows Adam's picturing himself up on stage, Tommy front-row center while Adam gets off for him under the lights.

"You know you want it." Tommy tugs him close enough to do up Adam's pants for him, giving his junk an affectionate pat.

"Shut up or you don't get your shoe back."

"Then you don't get your keys back," Tommy says, patting his jacket pocket. Adam so didn't see him steal those out of the ignition.

Adam hands Tommy his shoe even though he knows Tommy isn't going to drive an unfamiliar highway at night. With a smirk, Tommy hands him his keys.

They hold hands on the way back to their hotel, Tommy smiling at Adam while he pretends to look out the window, Adam going slow so he can smile back and still watch the road.


End file.
